Blessings abound like berries

I see artificial holly berry decorations everywhere at Christmastime—as do most people, I assume, all over the country. In the kitchen at Christmastime, my mother and me swooned over our new adorable coffee mugs with their illustrated forest critters wearing wreaths--with holly berries!—amidst a snowy background.

I live in a southern state. Last October I enjoyed a silent retreat at a rural monastery in a state farther north. Ascending a hill as I finished a wooded walking trail, I snapped a picture of the serene autumn sunset. Picture-perfectly, a branch of holly berries interjected itself into the sunset picture.

It was one of my favorite pictures from the trip.

Once home, I showed the picture to my mother. I spoke something like, “Oh I get it! That’s why there’s so many holly berry decorations at Christmastime, because people farther north than us actually have holly berries outside in the cold weather months.” Again, this was October.

The first week of January, I circled my backyard praying the Rosary. I looked up and saw the large tree that resides past the fence right next to the house. What did I spy on the tree?

Leaves…branches…and holly berries! Countless holly berries! Beautiful, bright, crimson, cheerful, festive holly berries. Bunches and bunches and bunches of berries!

I reported this to my mother once inside (we live together). She knew there were holly berries on the tree. She hadn’t told me because she didn’t want to embarrass me, she said, because I acted like it was "so special" for me to find holly berries at the monastery.

How did I not notice the holly berries in my own yard?! How did I not notice that holly berries grow in my own climate?! I’ve lived here my whole life!

Like Taylor Swift’s 2022 mega hit Anti-Hero, “I’m the problem, it’s me!”

Holly berries are beautiful. Like anything good, they’re a gift from God. What was I supposed to learn from this? (Other than that I obviously need to spend more time outdoors…)

Blessings of God surround us and we don’t see many of them. In the end, how many blessings will we see that we didn’t-see? Probably many more than we did see? Maybe millions more?

It's still special to me that I saw the holly berries “for the first time” at the monastery. Now holly berries remind me to open my eyes to the love of the Lord all around us.

“…though I was blind, now I see.” John 9:25 (NRSVCE)